On the Eve of Destruction
by redhead06
Summary: Lily Evans once had a passion for life, now the summer before her 6th year at Hogwarts things begin to unravel, and the perfect Miss Evans must come to terms with who will stay, who will go, and who will step in and change her life forever.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters and wonderful ideas and places expressed in the Harry Potter series. They belong to the wonderful J.K Rowling. I am simply a fan, writing for fun.

"_**And you tell me over and over again, my friend**_

_**How you don't believe we're on the Eve of Destruction."**_

_**- On the Eve of Destruction, Barry McGuire**_

People seem to think I'm the embodiment of _perfection_. When I pass people gawk. I hear them earnestly whispering, "Lily Evans… top student of her year," while others are sneering, "…_perfect prefect. She's simply nauseating._" I pay them no mind. Everyone around me, whether it be friend or foe, seems to be fascinated with me. Obsessed with being me, or hating me- either way- they all have preconceived ideas and expectations of me- that I am meant to obey at all times. Failure is something I am incapable of, disappointment incomprehensible.

I don't sin. I don't fail. Those are the rules by which I live. If I didn't, _who _would I be? Where would I fit under the microscope of scrutiny and hypocrisy by which my peers condemn me? I sweat under the pressure, knowing I can't keep this up forever. It's only a matter of time. So, while they live life carefree- free to be who they are- I sit and smile. _Always smile. _With a smile plastered on my face, I take each step with my head held high, all the while wondering how I ever got to this point and just how I'm going to get myself out.

People can only take so much, no matter how strong or perfect they are. So as each day passes, I'll sit and smile. **Never faltering**. It is who I am. _I am perfection._ Study every night, never forget an assignment. Anything short of perfect won't be tolerated. Follow the rules, keep everyone in line, but don't lose your temper. Be courtesy despite your disdain. On the surface I am perfection. I have been for years.

My only slip up, my one tragic flaw in all these years of perfection has been my overwhelming hatred for a certain messy haired boy. My polar opposite, symbol of imperfection at its best, and everything I can't stand, the one and only James Harold Potter. James Potter- famed Gryffindor Quidditch Capitan and Keeper, whose big head gets under my skin in everyway possible. Immature, arrogant, unruly, sarcastic- he is everything I despise and try to demolish. But I merely scowl, and then laugh and smile, ignoring the itch to scream, head high, eyes sharp. _Always aware. Always on guard._ Always perfect. The anger he invokes within me is incomparable to anyone else I have ever encountered and makes me boil over in rage – it is then I turn weak; that I am vulnerable.

Symbol of perfection on the outside- inside I am incomplete- torn in two pieces and fighting to survive. A fake smile, over boisterous laughter, and a calm demeanor seems to be the only thing I need to hide my truth within.

_My name is Lily Evans, and I am on the Eve of Destruction. This is my story…_


	2. Chapter One: August 1975

Chapter One: August 1975

In the thick of the night, crotched a small figure barely visibly by the moonlight. Her knees were muddy from the freshly wet ground and her hair astray from the brutal winds. Soaked to the bone, she knelt as a lone tear streaked down her ghostly white face, landing on the tip of her lips. Suppressing a heaving sob, the girl reached out blindly to stroke the large granite stone by which she knelt. Her were eyes blank.

Biting her already chapped lips she tasted her own salty blood trickle slowly on her tongue and it satisfied her. Satisfied her like nothing in life ever could- proved to her she was still alive. Desire knew not death. Assured, the young girl curled up in the fetal position at the base of the large stone, while reaching beneath her long black cloak that hung limply from her shoulders.

Gasping she quietly muttered into the dark night air, "Lumos!"

The tip of the wand she held in her right hand gave off just enough light, as the girl began to crumble from the inside out. Allowing her numbed emotions to surface, consuming her, Lily Evans's aching heart began to pour out; and she simply let go.

She didn't notice the tears that gushed out of her almond shaped green eyes and down her pale oval face, so much as the pain striking at her heart. Piercing it. Destroying it. Her tears blurred her vision making it difficult to read the inscription that lay before her; the material evidence lay before her, keeping the pain in her heart unbearably intact.

The large stone read:

**HERE RESTS**

**COOPER EVANS DIANE EVANS**

**October 15, 1938 - August 20, 1975 January 11, 1939 - August 20, 1975**

**Loving Father and Mother to two beautiful girls.**

Bitterly, Lily Evans buried her head deep inside her cloak and cried herself into an exhausted dreamless sleep. Lying alone, overtop her dead parent's grave with nothing but pain and hatred pulsating through her heart.

* * *

Severus Snape had never felt the way he did in that exact moment of time- and probably never quite would again. Remorse rapidly filled his heart as he stood just outside black iron gates peering in on a small muggle graveyard. From where he stood Severus could clearly observe Lily Evans- the love of his life- hit rock bottom; all the while trying to cope with the overwhelming feelings he felt to run to her side. 

The mark on his forearm burned, holding him back from her. The sensation a constant reminder of what he was- what he signed up to stand for this past summer- and how all of that lay like a large brick wall cemented between him and the girl he loved. Separating them for eternity.

Naturally, Severus, like the rest of the wizarding world had read about the attack on the Evans' home in Berkshire. In comparison to other muggle killings it stuck out like a sore thumb. Sloppy. Unplanned. Filled with holes. It had been front-page news. Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, had killed the Evans family- course the Daily Prophet didn't know anything about that. But he did.

Privy to the news of the Dark Lord's inner circle of loyal servants- he had overheard the Lord speaking in private with the Lestrange brothers nastily of the death of the Evans'.

"Suffered they did," whispered Rabastan Lestrange. His elder brother, Rodolphus, snickered beside him.

"They did my boy. They most certainly did. Ah, but the girl- the girl- she survives still," hissed Lord Voldemort, "She who dared to cross the Dark Lord- has survived to make a fool of me.."

Rodolphus suddenly became alert, "But my Lord, the prophecy. What will you do?"

"All in good time Rodolphus," he replied, "All in good time- I think-"

Severus never had the chance to hear the rest of the conversation; because just then Bellatrix Black popped her head around the corner seeming quite pleased herself.

"Snapey… you greasy child you," she jeered as she tapped her black wand across the palm of her hand, "What is it you are doing out here? Hmm..." Bellatrix cocked her head to the right hand side, and leered forward invading Snape's personal space.

"Bellatrix," Snape says recovering quickly, "I well- I was just looking for the loo. If you could be so kind to direct me, I will gladly be on my..."

"LOST- were you? Well now, I always knew children didn't belong here with my Lord," she commented. Gesturing with her head she murmured, "Down the right hall. Second door on the left- and mind you stay out of other rooms in which you don't belong!"

"Yes, but of course Bellatrix. My apologies," replied Snape before quickly taking his leave.

The only thoughts running through his head, "What does the Lord want with Lily? And what prophecy is he talking about?"

He had to get to Lily. He had to find her.

And now he had. Severus Snape found himself comfortable in the uppermost branch of a large old oak tree located on the fringes of the graveyard in which Lily Evans slept. From where he sat perched, he could easily keep guard over Lily's limp body, without her ever seeing him. He worried the light given off from the tip of her wand might draw attention and thought about trying to extinguish it, but then thought better of it. If her wand was not lit, he would be unable to see her- so instead he would just have to keep watch as she slept on.

Thirty minutes passed, before Severus took his eyes off of Lily and gazed up into the murky night sky. The stars shone dimly through the clouds. As time passed Severus looked on, guarding the girl he loved.

* * *

Sirius Black bounded out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place's top story attic window at pinnacle speed and leapt onto the flat roof with urgency, just as the Black's magically enhanced clock chimed midnight. Walburga Black's irate shrieks bounced off the walls of the attic staircase, echoing up and out the open window Sirius had just squeezed through. Her volume drained out the chiming clock, and became increasingly closer as she made her way up to the top floor of Grimmauld Place. 

Stopping at the top of the attic stairs to catch her breath, Walburga continued to scream, as Sirius directed the window pane to come crashing down with a flick of his wand.

His mother's disruptive volume safely inside the Black household, Sirius swung a small brown knapsack over his shoulder as he scuttled across the roof to where his CleanSweep lay with a large black trunk attached. Just as the eldest son of Black mounted his broom, an orange blast of light came shooting out of Walburga's wand and right through the glass window pane- shattering it.

With glass flying, Mrs. Black's shrieking reached new heights as her son kicked off into the night sky and turned to face his mother as she shot various curses his way. Admitting defeat, the diminutive woman screamed short of breath and red in the face from the attic window, "YOU FILTHY NO GOOD MUGGLE LOVING CHILD! YOU WILL **NEVER EVER **STEP ANOTHER FOOT INSIDE MY HOUSE AGAIN! NEVERRR!"

From atop his broom, Sirius chuckled before sarcastically barking back, "Good riddance! Your company my _darling_ mother, along with the Black family will be as sorely missed as the boils on your _precious_ Regulus's face."

A screech bellowed out of Walburga Black's lips, "You –you are no son of mine and you are most certainly not a Black-k!" she spat panting, "And don't you go forgetting that boy. Your family has disowned you forever, you filthy muggle lover !"

With that Sirius stared as his mother spun around and stormed down the attic steps, closely followed by the Black's house elf Kreacher.

Sirius called after her, "You old cow of a woman!" but was sure she didn't hear as he turned in midair, and heard the distinct blasting of the family tapestry, solidifying his renouncement from the Noble House of Black.

Grinning, Sirius disappeared into the dark night sky in the direction of the Potter family's manor.

* * *

James Potter lay anxiously in his dark bedroom, his balcony doors wide open as the cool summer breeze blew in ruffling the red and gold curtains that hung there. James had received an owl from Sirius the previous hour telling him he was on his way to stay, not to wait up, and make sure the balcony doors were open. 

As always, James had done as he was told, and now could not contain his mind, as he waited in anticipation of Sirius's late night arrival. So much had happened in the past week and a half, and James hadn't heard from Sirius since two weeks prior. Sirius had left the Potters' manor without a word and headed for Twelve Grimmauld Place. On his bed had been a simple note that read:

**_Prongs-_**

**_Went to Grimmauld Place. Don't worry._**

**_Give Mom and Dad my thanks._**

**_- That Dog Sirius_**

A candle James lit earlier that night burned on the right-hand bedside table, flickering in the breeze and illuminating the three day old _Daily Prophet_ that had been consuming James's mind since its delivery. The front page article with a solitary picture of a burned down, smoldering muggle home had not only intrigued him, but also gave him a sinister suspicion that there was more to the story.

Located in Berkshire, the house had been attacked in broad daylight by presumed Death Eaters. The article stated a middle aged muggle couple had been tortured severely and then killed. The house was ransacked and burned. No other information was provided. The prophet stated the couple had two teenage daughters whom had not been present.

The _Daily Prophet _never reported muggle killings these days on the front cover, let alone only two killed. The frequency of muggle deaths had been climbing for months, and not to say James thought the couples lives were of little importance, but he knew in the wizarding news- they were. James' parents had both been called to the scene- something rare for top aurors in the ministry- why was it the two top aurors in the British ministry rushed to the scene and news of it didn't make article. Why was it that _this _story made top news?

Patrick and Jocelyn Potter had refused to divulge information to their son on where they had been and who the victims were, but after reading the prophet James was positive her knew where they had rushed off to. Irate, and used to getting what he wanted, the argument that had ensued landed James Potter grounded for two weeks time; essentially ruining the rest of his summer- and he didn't even care. If he could just find out why everyone was being so closed lipped- and what the secret was he would be satisfied. He was determined to find out more.

Sighing, James turned over facing the wall and began to wait for Sirius's arrival, all the while contemplating the news article and just why he found it so mysterious.

* * *

Sirius Black had taken it upon himself to be in no rush that night to get to the Potters'. James could wait. It had been a very long time since he'd simply enjoyed the finer side of flying, and now that he was free to do as he pleased- he would. Dipping and circling, swerving, and even at one point diving, Sirius flew over the countryside of England with ease. Low to the ground, he flew just barely over top of the trees and roof tops, examining the sights around him. 

Across pastures, and school yards, around muggle skyscrapers- Sirius flew through the darkness with his long dark black cloak trailing behind him. Hooting and hollering, he basked in the freedom he had obtained as he flew just over Berkshire. He was getting closer and closer to James's house- but still wasn't in any hurry to get there soon. The fierce winds whipped at his face and he lapped it up. He passed over churches and shopping centers, solemn cats and barking dogs. He flew diagonal over a large gray sign that read,

**Berkshire Graveyard**

_**A Final Resting Place**_

The grave yard was dark except the street lamp across the street and a lone shining light in the midst of all the granite stones. Slowing down to get a better look Sirius peered downward when he suddenly heard a voice shout-

"Stupefy!"

The blast of light just missed him as he whipped around and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" at the oak tree from which the stunning spell came.

A black wand shot out of the tree towards Sirius and he quickly followed the disarming spell up with, "Petrificus Totalus!" for good measure before grasping the flying wand in his left hand and tucking it under his cloak. Circling the oak tree with his wand in hand, Sirius slowly lowered his self down under the cover of the tree.

He whispered, "Lumos." as he weaved through the large oak tree branches in search of the culprit who had sent a stunning spell in his direction. Closer and closer he crept as he moved upward. Looking up he spotted Severus Snape toppled between to branches, face towards the ground stunned with a look of loathing seething on his face. It was clear Snape was not happy with the situation.

Laughing Sirius roared, "Snape! Is that you? Well- caught up in a tree I see."

In afterthought he commented, "You know you really should work on your aim. It's horrible." He reached up and squeezed Snape's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, before removing the other boy's wand from under his cloak.

"Gee Snivellus, what are you doing up a tree in a muggle graveyard in the dead of night?" Sirius pondered as he took the black wand and promptly inserted it up the greasy haired boy's nose.

"There you go, Snivelly. I'm too happy tonight to keep it," he chortled, "Wish I had a camera for good measure though- Prongs sure would love to see this!"

Snapes face twisted in disgusted and became beet red. Ignoring him, Sirius turned to face the graveyard and upon doing so caught sight of exactly what it was Snape had been doing (or rather watching) from atop the oak tree.

The light he had spotted from above earlier in the graveyard still shone, and beside it in the curled of fetal position lay a pale faced girl with flowing red hair.

Perplexed, Sirius gasped, "Evans?"


End file.
